


Sensory Memories

by SensationalSunburst



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: ? - Freeform, Could be considered afterlife fic?, Fluff, Happy Ending, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Insomina is Rebuilt, Old Man Chocobros, Post-Game
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-15
Updated: 2017-08-15
Packaged: 2018-12-15 13:22:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,144
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11806830
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SensationalSunburst/pseuds/SensationalSunburst
Summary: After a tumble down the stairs, Gladio, Ignis and Prompto, now old and grey, begin to sense Noctis's presence.OR.A happy version of Hear No Evil, See No Evil, [Feel] No Evil





	Sensory Memories

**Author's Note:**

> Fluff, right? 
> 
> I'm playing with styles and it's hard because I wanna do short fics but it's so hard!

It began with a tumble.

Fifty years ago it would have been a laughable incident. And later, it kind of was, what with the squawk the intern made as she accidently bumped into Ignis, vision obscured by the legal boxes piled in her arms. The look of resignation on Ignis’s face as his own stumble knocked Prompto’s cane straight out of his shaking grip, the garbled sound of surprise Gladio made on the steps just above them as, in his haste to attempt to thwart their rapid descent down the marble stairs of City Hall, he tripped himself up and careened down the steps after them.

In the end, Prompto did laugh, even as blood began to soak through his trousers, as if to show Ignis who was cradling his elbow and laying on his back, good eye closed, just how ruined his knee was.

“I had one good knee left,” Prompto laughed, slightly hysterical, “ _One_!”p

The staff in the hospital did _not_ laugh.

“Falls for the elderly are not laughing matters, Lord Amicitia.” Their doctor said through her teeth, trying to talk sense to the men laid up in beds besides each other. “They often result in seriou-”

“Come on,” Prompto said, feeling around on his lap for his glasses, he let out a breathy crow of victory as he slipped them on, “It’s a bit funny. To think, death by staircase. After everything, it’d be a little… Iggy, what’s the word I’m looking for?”

“Anticlimactic.”

“Laugh it up gentlemen, but you’re going to be here a while.”

Unfortunately, it had been true. With Noctis, went the magic, rendering potions and elixirs useless. Healing was done the old-fashioned way with skill, time, painkillers and gratuitous bitching.

\-------

As with most things, Ignis was the first to notice their new companion. They theorized later that he’d been drawn by their accident, like a moth to a flickering flame.

Ignis first heard him while the three were gathered at dinner over their small, square dining table. Prompto had made a well timed joked Gladio’s expense and Ignis had choked on wine when he heard a small, aborted chuckle from the seat he knew sat empty across from him.

As he heard Prompto hobble over to roughly pat his back, all he could focus on was on how he’d thoroughly forgotten the sound. The stifled, sharp breath, a snort at best, that had once, come right before true helpless laughter. He remembered very clearly holding tight to a giggling boy’s knee, willing him to keep his laughter inside even as that tiny, bitten off snort indicated that an attempt at decorum was a lost cause.

Somehow, the sound was comforting.

 

* * *

 

Gladio felt him in the supermarket on an errand run for Ignis. The anniversary of the Dawn was the very next day and Ignis needed… he needed something from the store? But what? Gladio’s attention had been caught by the garish pink can of what had once been Noctis’s favorite soda. One that, to Gladio’s knowledge, had been discontinued. And yet, there it was and he was suddenly set adrift in the hazy memories of kicking away piles of crushed cans of sugary liquid. Tongues stained hot pink. A scraggly beard that had looked so _wrong_ on sunken cheeks.

“Excuse me.” Someone said, and Gladio stepped back, out of his mind and back into the aisle with an increasingly familiar tingle at the back of his mind.

He tried very hard to ignore the flush of fear that he was forgetting something very important. Just last week he’d forgotten what he was saying in conversation with Prompto; the look on the blonde’s aged face had been one of unacceptable worry. He was _fine_ , everyone was absent minded sometimes. Especially at his age.

He hadn’t forgotten anything important yet.

Right?

There was a hand on his right shoulder, feather light, and he turned to smile at whoever it was, assuming that it was another occasional, but increasingly rare, fan or old friend.

There was no one there.

But there, shining beneath the fluorescent light was the Ulwatt berries that he suddenly remembered he’d been sent out for in the first place.

* * *

 

Prompto saw him.

Granted, it was through the viewfinder of his camera, but his heart, as old and shriveled as it was within his chest, knew that fluffy head anywhere. He  _also_ knew exactly where he was buried. He’d helped dig the grave himself and so he stayed where he was, centered in the middle of a noisy, boisterous cluster of photography students in the middle of Insomnia’s Memorial Park.

“What’s your subject, Mr. Argentum?” One of his students asked, moving to stand just in front him to avoid forcing him to shuffle his walker around to face her.

“Memory.” He replied.

The girl, no older than seventeen, tilted her head to the side, wordlessly asking for further explanation.

“Pictures are frozen memories, we capture little pieces of a story in the moment. But sometimes, a picture can remind us of the past.” By now, several more bright faced youths had turned their attention to their teacher and with a hand that never quite stopped trembling anymore, Prompto pointed in front of him, straight down the parallel line of trees stretching before them.

Right where he had just seen that fluffy head drift out of view behind the young, flowering trees.

“Years and years ago I used to walk this street with my friends, back when it was a street of course.” He said, “I can still tell you exactly where the best arcade in the city was or where the Prince of Lucis once worked part time. The trees- something about their shade reminds me of when I fought  to get Noctis to the Citadel.”

“The Dawn King?” Asked a voice from the back, and Prompto nodded smiling.

“All before your lot was born, of course.”

“Well, everyone still knows the story of the Dawn King.” Said another teen, affronted.

“I’d hope so, but this isn’t a story about the King.” Prompto said, winding up for a tale, “ _This_ is a story about the man.”

* * *

 

The family was over for dinner, and Iris’s daughter was whining.

“You don’t understand, Grampa Iggy.” She said, and he felt her throw herself dramatically onto the sofa next to him. The others were milling about, their footsteps alternating between slapping against tile and being muffled against the carpet as they cleared the table and began work on the dishes.

“Oh?” Ignis said, taking a long sip of tea. Normally, that tone caused people to reevaluate what they’d just said, but teenagers, especially Iris’s headstrong brood, seemed to be immune to subtly.

“I’ve spent my whole life going to school and taking classes and... and… all for a job that probably won’t even exist after I graduate!”

“Rest assured, I’m _intimately_ familiar with the feeling.”

There was a pause, when Ignis took another sip of tea, in which the entire house went silent. He imagined, especially as the couch jolted, that she’d just remembered what Ignis had trained to be. And then, within that shocked silence,

“ _Specs.”_  The near tangible exasperation in the single word twisted his lip into a reluctant smile and Ignis reached out to lay his hand on the girl’s shoulder.

“Apologies.” He said, returning breath to the room, “I simply mean that you should perhaps consider my earlier advice and get a minor.”

Later, when the company had filed out and it was just the three of them again, (“It’ll be easier this way.” Iris had said when she’d convinced them all to move in together, “Think of it like…Ha! Think of it like a really long sleepover. Or a camping trip!”) Gladio flicked Ignis’s knee.

“You almost made Holly cry.” He scolded.

“Both of you, honestly.” Ignis rolled his eye, and reached again for his wine glass.

“I didn’t say anything.” Prompto protested.

Ignis was silent for a moment, debating, but there’s was a feeling there. The same sort of certainty he used to have in battle that Prompto would cover him, that Gladio had his back. The unfounded, but overwhelming feeling that it was almost _time._   And if that were the case, there was no harm in telling them.

“I-” Ignis paused, and Prompto put his hand on Ignis’s knee. “I have heard him, as of late. His voice, clear as day. Usually, a chuckle or a sigh. Tonight, for the first time, I heard him say my name. He sounded rather exasperated.” Ignis allowed himself a small chuckle in the silence that followed, but Prompto squeeze his knee harder and scooted closer with a soft grunt.

“I’ve seen him. In my viewfinder. He-- He was far away at first, but I knew it was him. He keeps getting closer and closer. Camera shy though, never showed up in the photos themselves. Last week, he smiled at me.” Prompto said.

“I’ve felt him. Taps on the shoulder, hitting my arm. I can feel the wrist brace.” Gladio said quietly. The couch dipped as he settled in on Ignis's other side. “I… I'd forgotten if I was supposed to turn left or right out of the grocery store. I was starting to get a little worked up when I felt his hand on my arm.”

“I see.” Ignis said. He relaxed against the couch as a sense of calm settled over the room.  “I must say I'm rather relieved. I was beginning to fear I was losing my mind.”

“Saner the rest of us,” Prompto laughed.

They fell into a comfortable silence, Prompto with his head on Ignis's shoulder, Gladio a warm presence on his left.

“I'm _tired._ ” Gladio said, his inflection careful.

“As am I.” Ignis agreeded. Prompto changed his grip on Ignis's hand to lace their fingers together. He ran his finger tips over the scars on Prompto's knuckles and felt him slump just a little further into his side.

“Yeah. Yeah, me too.” He said.

“Perhaps we should retire.” Ignis said.

“Yeah.” Prompto and Gladio echoed and as one, they stood.

While normally they slept separately in adjacent bedrooms, they wordlessly migrated together, Prompto supported on either side by Ignis and Gladio, towards Gladio's room. His bed was the largest and they got almost comfortable on it together, settling into old arrangements as if they'd never stopped.

Ignis’s hands reached out to the hole between himself and Gladio, fingers curling in empty air. The space where a prince used to curl up and pass out the moment his eyes were closed. The space that would close after close calls and nightmares and trembling hands would find his own and grip them like a lifeline in the darkness.

Gladio's calloused hands engulfed his own, recognizable both from both their size and their warmth. Ignis squeezed back, a wordless thanks, and worked up a smile before closing his eye.

* * *

 

He woke to the warmth of the sun on his face, and considering that they’d left all the blinds open, Ignis was fairly certain that meant it was likely the first rays of a new dawn peeking in. He blinked open his eyes, fully prepared to get up and make breakfast, but froze when the darkness cleared.

 _Cleared_ to near perfection vision.  

And at once, Ignis knew what had come to pass and where he was. After all, only in the afterlife would be gifted with the ability to once again see the blue of Noctis’s eyes. The knowledge was more akin to instinct, a bone deep awareness that lit his smile and filled his eyes. He reached out, brushing errant strands of ebony hair, just as soft as he remembered, from in front of Noctis’s face, fully revealing his unguarded, honest grin.

“It’s early.” Noctis whispered, “Go back to sleep. When we wake up, make pancakes.”

Ignis reached out and tangled his fingers through Noctis’s, bringing them close to his chest. “A capital idea, Noct.”

Behind Noctis, Gladio shifted, the notoriously fidgety sleeper rolling over to throw an arm, unmarked by age, missing the sundry scars inflicted by errant farming equipment, over Noctis’s shoulder, fingertips just barely dancing along Ignis’s arm.

Behind him, Ignis felt Prompto sigh, jostled by Gladio’s flip, and shuffle closer, one skinny leg thrown over Ignis’s, hands clenched tightly in his bedshirt as he nuzzled into the dip between Ignis’s shoulderblades, unconsciously hiding from the light. Ignis realized, with a heart suddenly filled to bursting, that they were in the tent’s cramped sleeping arrangements, despite the size of the bed.

“Close your eyes.” Noctis said, “I’ll still be here.”

Ignis hummed, “I know.”

Noctis rolled his eyes, but his smirk was still in place as he made a show of closing his eyes and yawning.

“Close your eyes and go back to sleep, Iggy. King’s orders.”

“Yes, your Majesty.”

**Author's Note:**

> As always, thanks for reading!


End file.
